


brevity

by theheartsclub



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Angst, Enemies to Friends to Lovers, Enemies to Lovers, Fluff and Angst, M/M, kissing hehe
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-02
Updated: 2018-10-02
Packaged: 2019-07-23 18:43:32
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 3,033
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16164665
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/theheartsclub/pseuds/theheartsclub
Summary: What he might not have realized when him and Draco were twelve and performing a near equivalent to tugging on each other’s pigtails, is that he didn’t have the will to hurt Draco Malfoy at all.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> these are just some sort requests i got on tumblr  
> each chapter is a different one !

 

Harry would like to say that he had forgotten all about that evening, but the memory was far from drifting. The sight of Draco Malfoy lying helpless on the floor was something that Harry would have thought might bring him joy a few years ago, especially if it was of his own doing. Of course, he could have never predicted the extremity of the situation. What he might not have realized when him and Draco were twelve and performing a near equivalent to tugging on each other’s pigtails, is that he didn’t have the will to hurt Draco Malfoy at all.

He often attempted to will the thoughts from his mind, the feelings of curiosity, and many times great remorse. It never seemed to work. The memories remained. They ate away at him at times. Harry suspected that would be the reason for the sudden disappearance of any sort of animosity he felt towards Malfoy.

It had been a month, nearly to the day, since he cast the spell. He hadn’t touched the book since, leaving it in the Room of Requirement that day to stay forever. He had every urge to set fire to it’s pages, but it felt wrong. At least in there it was far away from him.

Draco had been released from the Hospital Wing a few weeks ago, and since then Harry hasn’t been quite sure of how to act around him. They were far from friends, even less since what happened, but Harry still made every effort to make any sort of improvement on that.

***

“Malfoy!” Harry shouts, hurrying down the steps in the direction of the lake. There’s something in the back of his mind telling him that maybe he shouldn’t be doing this. Maybe Harry should learn to listen.

“Potter,” he responds, barely turning his head to the side as he continues to stroll down the path. He says Harry’s name more like it’s a question.

“I need to talk to you,” says Harry, only slightly out of breath from the jog.

“You don’t.”

“I do, though.”

“Why?” Draco drawls, finally turning around to face Harry. “Want to send me to the Hospital Wing again? Go on. Have another go. Maybe you’ll kill me for real this time.”

Harry inhales sharply, stuffing his hands in his pockets. He’s become acutely aware of the advantage in height that Draco has over him. “Are you feeling alright?”

Draco huffs out a scoff. He’s alone at the moment, none of his cronies there to laugh at Harry behind him, but Harry feels just as embarrassed as he would with an audience. “Just fine, thanks. Not that it’s any business of yours. That all you needed to help you sleep at night? I could even promise Dumbledore it wasn’t your fault, just in case you were fearing this might damage your impeccable reputation.”

_ You’re useless,  _ Harry thinks, but unlike they might have a few months ago, the words never make it past his lips. “Yeah, thanks,” is all he says before turning on his heels and heading back up the hill. Somewhere during Malfoy’s hospital stay Harry had apparently forgotten how incredibly frustrating he can be, no matter the circumstances.

***

Harry had been avoiding Malfoy since that afternoon, which wasn’t too hard to do considering he barely saw the other boy out amongst the rest of their classmates anymore. He hadn’t all year, but this time Harry had stopped watching his every move. They had a match against Slytherin today, and if Malfoy wasn’t there, then Harry had full reasoning to resume his stalking. Within his logic, anyway.

Except, Malfoy was there, and Harry learned that the second he made contact with bare skin on his way into the Gryffindor changing rooms.

“Fuck. Sorry,” Harry is quick to apologize, barely looking to see who it is before bending down to pick up what he’d dropped in the collision. Ron’s helmet, that he so conveniently asked Harry to grab for him from their room on his way. Harry didn’t even care too much about who it was; that was until his head snapped up at the sound of a voice.

“Watch where the fuck you’re going, Potter,” Malfoy spits. “Perhaps you need some new glasses or something, because the unsightly ones you’ve got aren’t doing much good.”

Harry is quick to stand, sighing to himself. So much for avoidance. It was either here or on the pitch, and given the choice Harry would prefer any distractions staying far away from the Snitch. “My apologies,” he mumbles, but his eyes had already taken over most functional parts of his brain. They naturally drifted straight to Malfoy’s forearm, searching for any sign of the Mark, but he turned up with nothing. He was lacking a shirt, but he had obviously made sure to put gloves on first. Harry’s breath hitched in his throat when he looked over the pale chest staring him straight in the face.

“Care to take a photo?” The sharp voice shakes Harry out of his thoughts. “Since you’re so fascinated by my physique. You can look at it every night before bed if that’s what you’d like. I’m sure you’d like that, wouldn’t you?”

Harry was unfazed by the remark.  **“Why didn’t you say h-how bad it was?”** he asks, a waiver in his voice as his eyes meet the cold blue pair staring into him.

Somehow, Malfoy manages to reach an even paler shade in his face, visibly caught by alarm. “I don’t know what you’re on about,” he claims, making an attempt to push past Harry towards the Slytherin changing room. Harry steps in front of him.

“You said you were fine,” Harry says, firmer this time. “You said you were fine, and fine doesn’t mean you’ve scarred like this.”

The expression on the other boy’s face shows almost embarrassment. “I am fine.”

“You’re not,” Harry insists. He’s past the point of hiding that he cares, that the guilt is eating away at him.

“No, I’m not,” Malfoy responds, his words slicing into Harry. “I’m obviously not fine. You know why? Because the great Harry Potter decided to fucking slice me open without a care in the world. Does that make you feel better now? Is that what you wanted to hear?”

Harry flinches, untouched. “I’m sorry,” he breathes, the words barely making enough sound to be heard. Watching a tear fall to Malfoy’s cheek cuts even further into this. He supposes this is what he deserves.

“Yeah, I reckon you are. Wanna let me through now?”

“No, really, Draco.” The name feels heavy on his tongue. He never realized how different it is to call him that. “I’m sorry. I would have never done it if I knew what it would do to you. You know I wouldn’t. I never wanted to hurt you.”

Harry sees him take in a shaky breath. A few more tears join the one this time. Draco looks as though he’s willing them away, but it isn’t working. “Alright, yeah. It’s okay. Now if you would just  _ move _ .” Harry nods, stepping aside to let the taller boy through, except Malfoy doesn’t move. He just stands, wiping the tears from his cheeks, looking to Harry once again. They’re silent for a moment,  but he breaks it again. “Are you serious? About not meaning what you did; that if you went back you wouldn’t do it again?”

Harry nods, sure, but still suspicious. There was no malice behind the words. Draco nods as well, although it seems to be pointed more towards himself. “It’s okay,” he says just above a whisper, his gaze gentle. “I forgive you.”

Harry looks at him, confused. “But why would you-”

“Just, I forgive you, alright?”

Harry nods. “Alright. Thank you.” He can’t see why he should be forgiven for doing something so terrible.

“I’ll speak to you later, Harry,” Draco says softly, and then with a small wave he’s disappeared behind him. If it weren’t for the feeling still in his chest, he would have believed that he’d just imagined the whole thing. He could still hear the sound of Draco saying his first name alone ringing in his ears. There was something about it that made Harry feel like he couldn’t breathe. It was like the tightness in his chest he felt that night Ginny nearly kissed him. Something about that sent jolts down his spine.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> second part !  
> unrelated to the first hehe

**“Why would you put so much hope in me? Things have clearly never worked out for me!”** Harry cries, his head dropping to his hands. He barely lifts it when he feels a hand on his shoulder.

“You are a very strong wizard, Harry, but that isn’t the only thing,” Dumbledore says with confidence. “You’re a very strong person as well. I place my faith in you because I know that is where it belongs.”

Harry nods slowly, but he still isn’t sure if he believes it. Dumbledore has always had a way of making things seem quite a bit lighter than they actually are. But Harry has always been impressionable, so it works on him quite easily.

“Off to bed now,” he adds after a moment of silence. “It’s past curfew. The fault is all on me, of course. If you happen to be stopped by anyone send them in my direction.”

Harry finally lifts his head, taking one look at Dumbledore, and then the door. He nods. “Thank you, Professor. I’ll speak to you later?”

Dumbledore nods, giving Harry a small smile and a wave as he steps out into the hall. Harry sighs, taking a moment to breathe before continuing on his way. Part of him wants to wander about the castle, but he doesn’t have his cloak with him, and if he were to get caught then Dumbledore would know straight away. That wasn’t exactly something that he felt like dealing with tonight, on top of everything.

Harry does his best to push the thoughts from his mind, but he never has been too good at that. Things have their way of sticking to his brain. Maybe that had something to do with the apparent Wrackspurts that Luna had seen; apparently his head was full of them. 

“Going for a midnight stroll are we, Potter?”

The voice pulled Harry out of his thoughts, but even if it hadn’t, he was acutely aware of his surroundings once his body had been pressed up against the cool, cobblestone wall of the castle. There was a hand fisted in the front of his robes. “You do remember I’m a Prefect, right? That could easily be ten points from Gryffindor.”

“I can see your badge, Malfoy. I’m well aware you’re a Prefect, thank you for reminding me,” Harry drawls, almost sleepily. He is exhausted.

“Another ten points for attitude.”

“I don’t think that’s a thing,” Harry replies, but there’s little malice behind it. He isn’t particularly interested in an argument tonight. Although, it does catch him by surprise when his mouth is met by another and not a fist. In the back of his mind he knew he was either getting hit or kissed, but tonight, he honestly didn’t care which one. He kisses back with a surprising amount of passion, to himself anyway. Perhaps it was good for him to put his mind to thinking about something else. Snogging Draco Malfoy in an empty corridor was certainly something else.

“You’re being weird,” Draco says when they finally break apart.

“Us snogging is both of us being weird,” replies Harry, pointedly.

Draco looks as though he’s considering the idea, which almost makes Harry laugh for a moment. “Different weird.”

Harry raises an eyebrow. “And suddenly you’re an expert on my behavioral patterns?” he challenges, shocked by the cold breeze that rushes over him when there’s no longer another body pressed against him.

“I’d like to think I know you at least a bit,” Draco says, and Harry thinks for a second he caught a glimpse of vulnerability from him, but he can’t be sure.

Harry sighs. “Sorry. I guess I may be a bit off. I was on my way back from seeing Dumbledore, and I dunno, my mind is in pieces.”

“About?”

“I don’t think that’s any of your business, now is it?” Harry nearly snaps, but who can blame him?

As Draco speaks, he seems to tilt his chin up higher. “Everything is my business.”

Harry scoffs. “You’d like to think so.” He moves to rejoin his journey, but Draco steps in front of him, intervening.

“I know so.”

“You do?”

“I saw you with Flinch-Fletchley yesterday, you know. You two seem rather close.”

Harry’s face twists slightly in confusion. “What are you talking about?” He can barely even remember speaking to Justin. They were hardly what Harry would consider friends.

**“Oh, I was just another notch in your bedpost?** Suppose you should tell him the same, and whoever else you’ve been sneaking around with. ”

“Sneaking around? Flinch-Fletchley? What on Earth are you on about?” Harry is genuinely confused. He feels like he’s gonna end up with bloody whiplash by the time he ends up in bed with how many different things have been thrown at him in just the last hour.

“Whatever, Potter,” Draco mumbles, his shoulders dropping a bit. If Harry looks close enough he can recognize a blush high on his cheeks. “Sleep with whomever you fancy, I don’t care.”

Harry sputters.  _ Now  _ it makes a bit more sense; as much sense as he can make of any of this anyway. He’s still working out the bit where he doesn’t mind the feeling of Draco Malfoy’s mouth on his neck, and it’s been weeks since the first time that happened. Any more of this and Harry thinks his head might explode. “Malf- Draco, wait,” he says, reaching out for the other boy’s hand, but he just barely grasps his robes as it’s yanked away. Harry takes his chance to speak as is. “I was talking to Justin about Muggle Studies. He wasn’t in class the day before and he needed to know the homework, so he pulled me aside after dinner. I never thought I would have to say this, but I’m not sleeping with Justin Flinch-Fletchley. I’m not sleeping with anyone aside from you.”

“Would you like to?” Draco asks with caution, and something about the timidness of his tone makes Harry’s heart ache.

“Not particularly, no,” Harry replies, and this time Draco lets him take his hand. “Only you, if that’s alright.”

Draco smiles. He tries to hide it, but even in the dimly lit hallway Harry can see. “So, that makes us what?”

Harry shrugs. The word boyfriend would turn this into something he wouldn’t have anticipated even in the wildest of fever dreams, but Harry never has been one to shy away from a challenge, has he? “Have you ever had a boyfriend?” he asks, a smile of his own spreading. Now he can definitely recognize the pink shading Draco’s cheeks.

“Why would you need to know something like that?”

“Because, if you wouldn’t mind, I think I would fancy being yours.”


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hehe last one

Harry steps out onto the platform at Hogsmeade station with a smile, but he doesn’t get all the way through his breath without it getting knocked straight out of him with a shove. He stumbles forward without a chance to catch who it was. He didn’t need to see, though.

“Had a good summer then, I see,” spits Draco. He’s alone, which is unexpected. Although Harry would be surprised if he dared have a personal interaction with him in the presence of his admirers.

“I don’t know what you’re on about,” Harry replies, turning around only to be shocked by how much Draco has grown over the summer, and how much he hasn’t.

“You know well what I’m on about,” he insists, and Harry does his best to think. He doesn’t suppose that Draco is asking how his summer went.

“Actually,” Harry says, a bit more defensive this time as he takes a step forward. “I don’t. So, if you’ll kindly inform me, that would be appreciated.”

Draco huffs out a frustrated sigh. “You promised you would post. I don’t believe you’ve misplaced that owl of yours because I’m looking at her right now, and it looks like you’re at full capability to write. So, tell me why I didn’t receive a single bloody letter all summer.” He pauses. The next bit is hushed, almost as though he’s embarrassed to say it.  **“I’ve spent all this time wondering and worrying about you. You didn’t think of me once?”**

Harry’s face falls, and he can feel a dropping sensation deep in his chest as well. He hadn’t forgotten to write, not one bit, he thought of Draco every single day that they were apart, but he couldn’t send anything. Sirius had warned him about the Ministry checking owls, and Hedwig was far too recognizable. He wasn’t able to send her out there on such a journey with information that could cause a vulnerability for him. “Draco,” he says gently. “I did think of you. Everyday I thought of you, but I couldn’t send anything. I’m sorry, really. I couldn’t send or receive any post this summer, because of the Ministry interfering and all of that. I haven’t even spoken to Ron and Hermione. Promise.”

They were still easing into this whole friendship thing. Clearly, it still had its bumps. It was especially hard to navigate a friendship where you occasionally hid around the corners of empty hallways and snogged your friend. They had some things to work on this year.

Draco nods, taking a quick glance behind him before leaning in to pull Harry into a lengthy kiss. Harry felt like he’d just been pulled up to air after being underwater all summer. He was always a bit dramatic. “Sorry,” he says softly once they part. “I was just worried, that’s all.”

“I know.” Harry can’t help but smile. “I’m here, though. In one piece. Promise.”

Draco huffs out a laugh, gently nudging Harry as they start for the castle together. “I’ll make sure it stays that way.”


End file.
